


Our Life Isn't a Disney Movie

by hazelNuts



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Burn Wounds, Hurt Derek, Hurt Everyone, Hurt/Comfort, Little bit of Fluff, M/M, POV Stiles, but Derek's the worst, way at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3808816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/pseuds/hazelNuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve been in a fight, with a dragon. An actual wings-and-talons dragon. Every single pack-member has been either burned or scratched, or both, but no one as bad as Derek, the self-sacrificing idiot. And he isn’t healing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Life Isn't a Disney Movie

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really bad at tagging. If you think I forgot any, please let me know in the comments.

It happens exactly like Stiles thought it would, and how he’s always hoped it wouldn’t.

They’ve been in a fight, with a dragon. Not like Parrish was. No, an actual wings-and-talons dragon. Every single pack-member has been either burned or scratched, or both, but no one as bad as Derek, the self-sacrificing idiot. And he isn’t healing.

‘Derek! Come on!’ Stiles cries desperately. He hits the werewolf in the face, trying to get him to wake up. ‘If you die I will kill you! I’m going to slowly poison you with wolfsbane _and_ mistletoe.’ He hits him again. ‘I promise you, I will dust all you clothes with mountain ash if you do this to me, asshole!’

Stiles hits Derek again, but there’s still no reaction. He can feel his breaths shortening and his heart starting to race from the oncoming panic-attack.

‘Please, wake up,’ Stiles pleads.

He leans his forehead against Derek’s, the skin already feeling colder. Stiles can feel his heartbeat slowing under the hand that’s clenched in the guy’s shirt.

‘Please,’ he whispers.

His lips brushed Derek’s. He thinks he hears a small hitch in the guy’s breath.

‘Derek?’

He crushes their lips together. There is another hitched breath and the heartbeat under his palm beats a little stronger. He pulls back to give Derek some breathing room.

His eyes flutter open, and he breaths out,’ Stiles?’

‘Yeah, I’m here, big guy,’ Stiles answers, but Derek’s eyes are already closed again. ‘Derek? Fuck.’

He grabs Derek’s face with both his hands, looking for any signs that he’s drifting to consciousness again.

‘Stiles, he’s gonna be okay,’ Scott reassures him. ‘He’s not unconscious, not like before. It’s more like he’s sleeping.’

‘You sure?’ Stiles asks, turning to his friend.

‘I- I think we should call Deaton.’

The vet tells them that Derek isn’t really sleeping, it’s more like he’s drifting. He’s preserving energy to heal.

‘So he _is_ healing?’ It’s all Stiles really wants to know, that Derek’s going to be okay.

‘Yes, but it’ll be slower. Wounds from full dragons heal slowly. It’ll probably take a week before they’re completely gone.’

‘What do we do now?’ Scott asks.

‘Get him some place safe and quiet where he can heal. If there is no obvious improvement, or if he hasn’t woken up in three hours, call me.’

~

‘He’ll be fine, sweety. He’s not going to die,’ Lydia says, squeezing his hand.

‘Thanks, Lydia.’ It’s the most comforting thing Stiles has heard in the last thirty minutes. If the banshee can’t sense Derek dying, than he isn’t going to.

‘He’ll be fine, Stiles. We’ll get you some food and medical supplies.’ And with that Scott and Lydia walk out of the loft.

The other packmembers have gone to the McCall-house to get patched up by Melissa, while the three of them had brought Derek to the loft. The guy wasn’t a lightweight and it had taken some considerable effort, but they’d gotten him to the top floor and into his bed eventually.

He props himself against the headboard next to Derek and waits for his friends to return with supplies.

‘You should get cleaned up,’ Erica says. He hadn’t even noticed her coming in. he’d been completely focused on Derek. ‘I’ll stay with him until you get back.’

But he shakes his head. ‘I can’t.’

He thinks she’s going to argue, but then she turns around and walks to the bathroom. She must’ve raided Derek’s closet as well, because two minutes later she’s back with a damp washcloth and a set of clean clothes.

‘Let me.’ Erica starts to gently wipe the dirt and blood from Stiles’ face and arms.

‘Thanks.’

‘You know you don’t have to watch him all by yourself, right? We can take shifts.’

‘I can’t- I just can’t.’

‘Okay,’ she nods. She works in silence for a little while. ‘This should be bandaged.’

She points at the scratch on his arm. It’s not deep, but it’s still bleeding a little.

‘Scott and Lydia are getting medical supplies. They should be back soon. Shouldn’t you be getting something for that burn?’

There is an angry red burn mark on Erica’s arm from when she pushed Boyd away from the dragon’s scorching breath.

‘It doesn’t hurt as bad anymore.’

Stiles suspects she’s lying, but there’s no point in calling her out on it. He just nods.

When she’s done cleaning him as best she can, she hands him the shirt and sweats.

‘I’m going to get some more washcloths and a towel so we can clean Derek up.’

He nods again. When she’s gone he quickly changes into the clean clothes. It’s a relief to be wearing something that doesn’t smell like smoke and blood. He then gently starts to pull the remains of Derek’s clothes of the man’s body. He winces every time the fabric sticks to the blood and the burnt flesh. He knows Deaton said that Derek would heal just fine, but how can anyone heal from this?

Erica doesn’t say anything when she sees the extent of the wounds covering Derek’s body. She simply helps Stiles pull off the clothes and make-shift bandages, and starts to clean.

A lot of the wounds are still bleeding and Stiles sighs in relief when Scott and Lydia come back. Lydia immediately sets to sowing the larger of the wounds closed. Scott starts rubbing cream on all the burns. It probably won’t do much, but at this point every bit counts.

When they’re done, Scott and Erica carry Derek to the couch, and after Lydia and Stiles have changed the sheets, carry him back to the bed. Then it’s Stiles’ and Erica’s turn to be bandaged.

‘I think he’s healing,’ Erica says excitedly, after reassuring a fussy Lydia that she’ll be fine. ‘There was a scratch over his eye, but it’s mostly gone now.’

‘You sure?’ He’s almost too scared to hope.

‘Yes.’

He inspects the man lying on the bed. He thinks Derek looks a little better. He really hopes he’s not imagining things.

‘You need some rest, Stiles,’ Scott says, placing a hand on his arm.

‘So do you.’

‘Yeah, but-‘

‘I want to be here when he wakes up.’

‘Stiles-‘

‘I’ll stay,’ Erica interjects. ‘I’ll take the couch. You stay with Derek. When he wakes up, you come get me and I’ll watch him while you sleep.’

Stiles mulls it over. He’s not happy with it, but he suspects they’ll sneak sleeping pills into his food or drink if he says no. So he nods.

‘Okay,’ Scott says, not sounding sure, but he’s agreeing. ‘Check his bandages regularly and when he wakes up, make sure he drinks something. And if he gets worse-‘

‘We’ll call Deaton,’ Erica finishes for him. ‘You go check on the rest.’

Lydia and Scott walk out of the loft, both still looking reluctant.

‘Thank you,’ Stiles says.

‘I didn’t think there was any way we could persuade you to leave.’

‘No, you couldn’t.’

‘If you need me, I’m right over there,’ Erica says, pointing to the couch.

He nods, but his attention is already back on Derek.

~

A sudden change in Derek’s breathing makes Stiles sit up. It’s been almost an hour since Scott and Lydia left. In that time he’s checked the bandages three times, has had to change one of them, and has been scared out of mind.

Derek blinks open his eyes. He tries to turn his head, but winces when the movement pulls on one of the scratches on his neck.

‘Don’t move, big guy.’

He wants to cry with relief. Derek’s awake. He’s going to be fine.

‘Stiles?’ Derek looks at him like he doesn’t believe Stiles is really there.

‘Yeah, I’m here. How you feeling?’

 _That’s the dumbest question you’ve ever asked_ , Derek’s eyebrows say.

‘Right, sorry,’ Stiles says. ‘Of course you feel like crap. Look, Scott said you had to drink something when you woke up, so I’m gonna have to lift your head a little, okay?’

Derek nods, but he’s not looking all that sure. Stiles isn’t sure either, because even this small movement is probably going to hurt like hell. He grabs the glass from the nightstand, lifts Derek’s head with his other hand and sets the glass to his lips.

‘Slowly, okay?’

Derek takes a few careful sips. He winces a bit on the swallow, but he keeps drinking until the glass is empty.

‘I’m gonna get Erica. I promised her I’d let her take the next shift after you woke up.’

He moves off the bed, but Derek grabs his hand.

‘Can you stay? Please?’

‘I- Sure,’ he nods. ‘Let me just wake her up and then I’ll be back. Okay, big guy?’

He brushes a hand through Derek’s hair. It’s purely on instinct, and he’s about apologize when he sees Derek’s faint smile and the way he leans into the touch.

‘I’m already up,’ Erica’s voice sounds from the other side of the room. ‘Just get some sleep.’

He lies down carefully on the bed, his heart beating like crazy. Because does this mean that Derek remembers that desperate kiss? Or is it simply that Derek doesn’t want to be alone?

‘Stiles?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Shut up.’

‘I wasn’t saying anything.’

‘You were thinking very loudly.’

‘Oh.’

Derek sighs. Stiles can almost _feel_ him roll his eyes.

‘And will you get over here. I didn’t ask for you to stay so you’d lie on the other side of the bed.’

‘Not even awake for five minutes, and you’re already bossing me around. I think you’ll be fine,’ Stiles grins and he shuffles closer.

Their arms are touching now. He tangles his fingers with Derek’s, holding his breath. He really hopes he’s right, because he doesn’t think he’ll have the courage to do the whole confession again thing anytime soon. He doesn’t breath out until Derek squeezes his fingers lightly.

‘Stiles.’

‘That’s my name,’ he mumbles, already half-asleep.

‘Maybe don’t wait with your next big confession until either of us is half-dead.’

‘I was actually planning on proposing while hunting for pixies,’ he smiles, turning on his side so he can look at Derek.

There’s a look of both fondness and exasperation on Derek’s face. Stiles has a feeling he’s reserved that one specially for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://fandom-madnessess.tumblr.com/).


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